


For a Glimpse of Heaven

by leggsyunwin



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leggsyunwin/pseuds/leggsyunwin
Summary: Harry will give him a bloodyuniverse.





	For a Glimpse of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written anything in a long, long time so please do bare with me if you can! hopefully my writing can improve over time :)

Harry’s staring again.

It’s late, too late for it to be even considered that and instead rather “early” now. His migraine’s kept him up the entire time, what started at the crown of his head now having overtaken his entire skull, rattling like a waltzer at a funfair. He lies motionless, staring at the same point on the awful textured ceiling of their apartment. Eventually, he gives up counting the paint splatters and turns to the balcony door and patio beyond. The distant sound of late night bin pick-ups does nothing to help, and finally he settles himself on his other side, staring at the soft sheets and Eggsy spilled across them.

They’re in Spain, only not for a mission this time. It had been Eggsy’s idea to get away, but for all his travelling on the job he’d never been outside of the country for recreation and merely simpered “Blackpool?” when Harry asked where he’d like to go. As nice as Blackpool was, the option of anywhere in the world was much more appealing, despite Eggsy’s obvious reservations; the guilt of leaving his family behind to sun himself by a beautiful lagoon. It had been his mother who had eventually persuaded him to go, practically bundling him out of the door.

“I want to bring them here one day,” Eggsy said one day, sat on the balcony brushing up on his German. “Dais would love the aquarium, and the flamenco dancers.” Harry thinks in that moment that Eggsy is generous, and wonderful, that this isn’t a new revelation to Harry but he’s always surprised that someone as beautiful, as whip-smart and kind and sharp in turn doesn’t already have the whole world in his palm.

Harry will give him a bloody _universe_.

Eggsy lays on his stomach but his face towards Harry, neck turned so far he’ll undoubtedly get an awful ache when he wakes up and Harry will wish to transfer the pain onto his own body if it made Eggsy smile in that soft, knowing way he does. Harry’s migraine is starting to break and he knows that just a little while longer of tracing his lover’s silhouette against the white sheets he’ll be fine, as he always is in the presence of this impossibly perfect man.

Faint wisps of a cool breeze ghost along Harry’s legs as he moves closer, migraine be damned, drying his sweat to salt that Eggsy will kiss clean when he wakes with an urge to touch. Harry will always endulge him, let him roll them around on their soiled sheets until they’re clinging and sweaty in an amoeba of heat and thrumming hearts. At this thought he pushes the sheet away from Eggsy’s lithe form to his knees. He drinks him in like a refreshing glass of water, desperate for more in this Sevillian heat.

The sun has done his body wonders, freckling Eggsy’s shoulders in an impossible constellation that he wants to take hours to map out with careful fingers, finding his favourite star beneath them all. Shoulders that were usually tensely packed with muscles and strain, now uncharted and soft, pliant like clay under his hands. As Harry leans in to kiss the shoulder closest to him, Eggsy makes a small noise in the back of his throat, body autotuned to the caress of Harry’s fingers against the small of his back and wandering mouth. He doesn’t wake, however, leaving Harry to move even closer. God. He’s mere inches from touching head to twitching toe but stops himself, knowing that between their body heat and the rising celsius outside it will be a short-lived embrace. He’s not responsible for his skating fingers dipping down Eggsy’s spine, not when his supine form beckons Harry in like this.

Everything from Eggsy’s armpits to his stubby toes excites Harry. He’d give Adonis a run for his money, Harry reckons, and knows he’d bankrupt himself in an instant betting on his boy.

He does wake when Harry’s hands cup his arse, not with any intention other than to run his hands over Eggsy’s skin like glorious velvet, gorgeous to touch. He grunts and reaches up to rub his neck (ha, told you, Harry thinks) before looking at Harry with a soft smile, turning the rest of his body towards him. They kiss, tender in the moon-lit bedroom.

“Sorry,” Harry whispers with no real heat behind it, hands now cupping his ribcage with such a delicacy to it he forgets he’s a trained killer, forgets how easy it would be to snap Eggsy’s wrist between his thumb and index finger, because looking at Eggsy now he feels amnesia for anything but him.

“Migraine?” Eggsy’s always been quick on his toes, even with sleep dust in his eyes. He moves up, straddling Harry’s thighs and smiling down at him. Harry kisses his collarbone, shoulder, anywhere his lips can conquer (anywhere; Eggsy will always let him).

“ _Mm_ , it’s been rather a pain tonight,” Harry grouses, fingers tangoing up and down Eggsy’s thighs as Eggsy’s hands tangle into Harry’s hair, fingers rubbing at the sensitive parts of his scalp and eliciting a soft sigh. “You don’t have to. Really you should sleep.”

“What’s sleep if you can’t dream with me?” Eggsy teases, but doesn’t relent, sheets bunched around their feet and his knobby knees planted either side of Harry’s. They’re silent albeit the hum of the city below them, a perfect silence that causes his migraine to scuttle away and leave the two swept up in a domestic intimacy you wouldn’t need honey to sweeten.

“Will you dream with me now?” Eggsy asks a little breathlessly, a flush high on his cheeks, when Harry tumbles him back down beside him, covering their exposed bodies with the tangled sheets, beauty for their eyes only. Harry feels rich when he’s with Eggsy, full on fine wine and gold that only he's allowed to taste. Harry’s far too tired to declare such a thing, instead covering Eggsy’s mouth with his own, hands paving an adventure on his skin, counting his blessings instead of sheep.

“Why dream when everything I want is right here?”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm [firth-jpeg](http://firth-jpeg.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please come and hang xxx


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